


in the great green room...

by ramenator



Category: Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Fluff, Light Angst, andy is mentioned, bo peep is mentioned, there's a slight hint towards buzz/woody but it's v subtle, woody being a dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 09:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18826030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramenator/pseuds/ramenator
Summary: Forky, a new "toy" in Bonnie's room, is unpredictable. Woody's trying his best. And one sleepless night, he manages to find a little, familiar book.





	in the great green room...

**Author's Note:**

> there's not really spoilers? everything I've grabbed for this fic from the new movie are the commercials.

  The other toys were still uneasy with Forky's arrival. There was low whisper that travelled amongst the whole group of toys, Bonnie and Andy's both.

  "How is that even possible…?"

  "Bonnie can't have a toy at school- it won't last another day."

  And, Honestly, Woody was expecting different. He hoped the day Forky arrived, there would be a more approving group, (Or, at least beyond the surface,) but Woody assumed it would come in time. Besides, it wasn't like he had a few wondering questions himself.

  From the moment Forky arrived, Woody had noticed he was disoriented. Hyper, worried and all kinds of offset. But for now, up until their vacation, he wanted to care for him. Almost like that of a child. No, really like one. It wasn't unbearable, having to care for Forky, but it became more of a hassle as the toys beared down more suspicions upon the new arrival.

  At least Buzz had his side. "Do you think he could last through playtimes?"

  Woody was sitting on the edge of Bonnie's bed with Buzz, peering out the window from afar. The sun was out, and there seemed to not really be any clouds in the sky. Pretty good after such a rainy day beforehand. "I think Bonnie can understand his limits."

  "Right." Buzz was quick to agree. "But, what about some other kid? Peers? In public, even?"

  There was no doubt that Buzz shared valuable questions. Now Woody's gaze bore into the ground, a frown coming to his face. Forky was probably, no, definitely the least fit for future predicaments. "We should… probably make the best of it, Buzz." His gaze fell upon Buzz's now, smiling softly. "Forky is the most important toy to Bonnie right now. I want to make sure he stays safe."

  It was true. Woody has had his fair share of playtime, for sure. Not that he didn't anymore, but now Woody had grown to understand phases happen. But there was never a lack of love between him and Bonnie, amongst the others. Between him and Andy.

  Buzz chuckled softly, and for a moment Woody wondered if it was in the jist of sarcasm. Buzz simply laid a hand to Woody's shoulder, sighing. "You really get it now, huh?"

  "Oh c'mon Buzz… please, it's been more than 20 years now."

  "No, I'm just pulling your string, sheriff." Buzz chided. "I don't think we'll ever understand the full length of… how lucky we are to have a toy like you. You've come such a long way."

  The words make Woody's heart swell, and feel quite flushed. He smiled giddily, patting Buzz's shoulded in return. "I dunno, Buzz, but I do think the same could very much go for you, too."

  And in times like this, seeing his friends steady with the thought of Bonnie's happiness towards them and their new arrival, Woody knew it was all worth it.

///

  Now, very near in the future, it was definitely past bedtime. Woody had reassured the toys with Forky's current tantrum that he could handle watching over him. Not that some toys minded, anyway, but rather because of their thoughts of distrust over the spork “thing” meant they truthfully did not want to help, or sometimes simply deal with him at all. He didn't mind all that much, Woody thought it may just be a phase of some sort, but he surely hoped the toys would grow to understand the Forky was very much Bonnie's toy, too.

  He was thankful for Buzz and Jessie being so attentive to everything. However, Woody understood that this was more of a personal fulfillment. In fact, he kind of enjoyed being a father figure. At least when Forky was kind of cooperative.

  Tonight, Woody had to drag Forky away from Bonnie's sleeping grasp. He kept blabbering about trash, still probably unaware that he is a toy. His mannerisms could potentially wake Bonnie up, Woody knew, so he had to act fast.

  "You've got to stop this, Forky." Woody scolded from underneath Bonnie's bed. "When are you going to realize how much you need to he there for Bonnie?"

  Forky wasn't really aware of what Woody was saying. Instead, he gazed very intensely at a nearby trash can, bug eyed. (Or, the widest a pair of googly eyes could grow in fascination.)

  "Forky-" Woody followed his gaze, somehow unsurprised. "No."

  "Traaaash…" Forky still stared, mourning in a strangely quiet manner now that Woody was trying to speak reasonably with him, although being reasonable had begun to be almost impossible in some cases.

  Without a single warning, Forky yelled "TRASH!!" and made a sprint for the little can. However, Woody grabbed him by his pipe cleaner arm, sighing loudly.

  "You're Bonnie's toy."

  "Trash!" Forky chirped.

  "Forky! You belong here-"

  "I belong in the trash!"

  "You're just a toy!"

  "Trash!" Forky screeched. Woody grimaced, his chest clenching in an unshakable panic at the thought of him being heard. "Trash trash trashtrashtrashtrash!!"

  "Stop it!" Woody was incredibly frustrated. He was surprised that Forky had not woke up Bonnie and the other toys yet, given the new toy had not calmed down whatsoever. How did he even have this kind of energy? It wasn't really beneficial to have a walking, talking, trashcan obsessed spork in the middle of the night.

  Woody knew he had to think of something. Anything to let the night go by, even if it meant his own self inevitably losing sleep. Just for one more night… it's gonna get better.

  "Trash." Beside a thinking, slumped sheriff, Forky mumbled the word to himself. It definitely did not go unheard, however.

  Then it struck him. "Hey, Forky, would you like to do something fun?"

  And in the midst of the moment, Forky's googly eyes sparkled. "Trash?"

  "No." Woody didn't want initiate this strange obsession anymore. It started to make his mind wander about Lotso. About all the time spent before scrambling inside that absolute putrid cesspool known as the dump. Woody involuntarily shivered, blinking in the acknowledgment that Forky was still quiet. Still waiting. "Uh…"

  The silence was eating at them both. Forky began to bounce on his popsicle legs, as Woody felt it through his soft, flimsy arm. Desperately, he scanned around the room. Or, at least the most of what he could see, as light was very limited right then.

  At the foot of the bed sat a paperback children's book. It was, in human terms, relatively small. However, it was going to take both of Woody's hands to manage.

  He didn't mean to start trailing off again.

  Woody started to think about the late nights Mom would come and sit by Andy's bed. He was around Bonnie's age, already full of imagination and, what seemed to be endless energy. Mom came in with a book sometimes, the soft light of a plain, blue lamp lit up the room before Bo did. He felt the warmth of Andy's arm constricted around him, and heard each gentle word coaxed from Mom's book bring him, and Andy, closer to sleep.

  Now, with Forky still in hand, Woody stood above the book. The letters of "Goodnight Moon" were bright enough to distinctly read, and it was in that moment, Woody knew his plan.

 

  "How about… we read a bedtime story?" Woody turned, smiling softly at jittery Forky.

  Forky smiled wide. "About trash?"

  Scanning the book, Woody leaned down to pick it up with one hand, still keeping his grasp on Forky for safety purposes, and examined it towards a small night light at the bottom of the room. "No, not trash."

  It was a quiet, quick travel to a nearby fallen pillow. It’s soft, baby blue fabrics were much preferable than the wood floor, Woody decided. Woody, having set the book down, fluffed the pillow and gently sat Forky down in the middle crease, expecting him to run away. To his surprise, Forky simply wiggled down into the pillow more.

  “...Alright, are you comfortable Forky?”

  Forky nodded.

  And for some reason, Woody felt tense. With this book in his hands, he could almost feel Andy’s Mom within his own, opening the book, gazing at the pictures. He was not unfamiliar with the little story, he had found it one night as a birthday gift to a four year old Molly. Mom read it one night.

  Woody’s voice trailed, softly, to the words. He had started to think about the old house again, and the words began to resonate in him like a thick fog in his chest, giving out a heavy, long sigh. “...In the green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon.” Woody began to read. “And a picture of a cow jumping over the moon.”

  For a moment, he glanced at Forky, seeing he was settled and actually listening. He was obviously perplexed, but relaxed, and his figure was mellow, maybe even closer to sleep. “...And a comb, and a brush…”

  Something about the book made Woody think of Forky and Bonnie. Most likely the brush. It was something so sweet, that the most insignificant of things could be given love in such a way. Or, more or less, given life, as Woody had seen and dealt with.

  “...Goodnight, room. Goodnight, moon.”

  Forky repeated the words under his breath. “...Goodnight, room.”

  “Goodnight, cow jumping over the moon. Goodnight, light and the red…”

  He had done it. Forky was sound asleep. Emphasis on sound, his little snores were noticeable, but luckily not inheritably too loud. Woody watched for a moment, his heart swelled. It was a fulfilling thing, after such a ruckus the last couple days had been.

  Woody sat the book down beside the pillow, finding a small bandana left out to cover Forky with. Since he would be sleeping in a pillow, Woody supposed there wasn’t that much need for another one. He yawned, stepping back with a sleepy smile across his face. “Goodnight, Forky.”

**Author's Note:**

> the fic kind of feels fast paced and all but,,i dunno,,,, just had to write dad woody bc yeah


End file.
